Freedom's Heart
by SmilesSaveLives
Summary: After the tragic death of her mother, Stevie Rae's father took a military job out in the wild, unexplored, and unsettled West, but even in her vast new surroundings, she feels trapped in a military base with high walls and stories of the hostile natives. Can she learn the secrets of the land to get freedom for herself, her heart, and the warring peoples? Full Summary inside!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**

**Yes, I know I really, really shouldn't be starting yet another Stephaim fanfic when all the others aren't even close to done, but I was just watching my favorite movie EVER that I haven't seen in years: **_**Spirit, Stallion of the Cimarron**_** by Dreamworks. AND THEN I GOT HIT WITH A LIGHTNING BOLT OF INSPIRATION! Thus, this thing got created.**

**Full Summary is here, 'cause I know it's not going to actually fit.**

_She used to love horses, but that was back before the accident. Now, Stevie Rae can't even look at a horse without thinking of that terrible, terrible night. She can't help but remember the storm, the rain, the thunder, the lightning, the fire—the blood. She can't help but relive the closed-casket funeral, and how her mother's trampled body was laid in the ground._

_But now the Northern Pacific Railway is reaching all new territories, and the workers are wary and seek protection from the hostile natives. Stevie Rae's father, General Johnson, took the job out on the military base out in what will come to be called the Old West, but back then, everything was all brand-new and unbroken. When Stevie Rae moved out there, she expected to be able to escape the prejudice of society and maybe even the depression that had been haunting her since her mother's death. Unfortunately, that is not the case, and in the great, wide open plains and under the never-ending sky, she finds one great big jail cell. Stevie Rae wants nothing more than what she is slowly learning she may never be able to have: her freedom._

_But, what happens when an unbreakable mustang, a native "hostile", and some hope are thrown into the mix? Will she finally break free of the chains of death, conquer an old fear, or let love heal her broken heart? Is it even possible for one girl, a native boy she really shouldn't trust, and a wild stallion to learn the secrets of the land before war and hatred tear it apart?_

**Okay, hopefully you now have a better sense of where I'm going with this one, and I'm hoping you'll read on. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own HON or the characters from the series, like Stevie Rae, Rephaim, or Dallas. Some of the OCs are inspired by characters from **_**Spirit, Stallion of the Cimarron**_** by Dreamworks, and the wild horse that will play a part in this is completely and totally inspired by Spirit himself. Basically, I don't own anything here, except maybe my writing style and a little bit of the plot.**

**~Smiley**

* * *

Chapter One

_Momma would have loved this_, Stevie Rae thought as they arrived at the military base. Well, her mother would have hated why they came here and where they were going to be staying, but it was outside the tall, solid, wooden walls of the military base that her mother would have loved to see. The wide-open space, the endless sky, the fresh, clean air—Stevie Rae wished her mother could've seen it.

But, that's just the thing. Stevie Rae wished that her mother could've seen it; she wished that she was there to see it; she wished that she hadn't died so that she maybe could've been with her daughter and her husband when they moved out here; she wished her mother never got caught in that damn storm that night—

_Enough_, Stevie Rae told herself sternly. _If you have another panic attack, Daddy's gonna just go insane and he's not gonna buy the whole blaming-the-heat excuse again…_

"Stevie Rae," her father barked, jerking her away from her thoughts. "It's time to go inside." He said the words like he was commanding one of his soldiers. He said everything like a military command now: cold, heartless, robotic, intimidating…

"_Now_, Stevie Rae," he said, and she told herself like she had several times before that once a little more time went by and his heart healed a little bit, he'd go back to sounding and acting like her father again. She had been telling herself that for four months now, and she was losing hope that the frosty defenses he had put up after his wife's death and the ice in his cold blue eyes would ever melt.

She was losing hope in a lot of things.

_But, maybe this won't be too bad_, she told herself as she followed her father through the humongous gates of the military base. _I mean, look at all the land and the great big sky and the—_

Bang! The four soldiers finally managed to shut the huge wooden gates. They were at least fifty feet tall, and the actually walls were at least sixty. Stevie Rae realized with a start that there were no green plains in the base, nor was she able to see the limitlessness of the sky above her. This stupid base was just a speck in the Great Plains, and she was just a speck inside the military base. There was no freedom here. There was no hope. She had been a fool to think that otherwise was a remote possibility.

Suddenly, Stevie Rae had the urge to scream and cry and grab her daddy's hand, but she quickly suppressed it. Not only would it not be a great impression to give everybody on her first day, but her father would probably not appreciate it or have the least bit of sympathy. So she tried to hold herself together, at least until she was alone.

It was then that another realization hit her. She didn't notice it until she actually looked in front of her, instead of gawking at the gates, willing them to reopen. And what she did see filled her with sheer terror.

_No. Please, no_, she prayed. Marching in front of her were lines of hundreds, no, thousands of horses, manes cut short and branded with the two letters that represented their country: U and S.

She used to love horses. Really, she did. But ever since one trampled her mother, she hasn't been able to look at them the same way. Maybe it wasn't the horse's fault, but her mind couldn't help but associate them with the funeral and her mother's absence and her father's cold, icy eyes.

She resisted the urge to break down crying and followed her father to the cabin that had been designated as theirs. There was a boy waiting for them on the porch, and he jumped to his feet when he spotted her father.

"Dallas!" Her father greeted, as warmly as he could when his heart and his voice and his eyes were frozen over. The two shook hands, and Stevie Rae waited on the steps patiently.

It was then that they turned to her. "Stevie Rae," her father said, "this is Dallas."

"It's a pleasure to finally meet ya, ma'am," Dallas said, taking her hand and kissing it before she could even pull it away.

"It's nice to meet you too," she said politely, but looked at her father questioningly.

Her father sighed. "Stevie Rae, Dallas has been assigned to be your...body guard, of sorts," he said emotionlessly. "He will be protecting you."

"Daddy, I don't need a—"

"Nonsense," her father interrupted. "We simply can't have you getting into scraps with the horses or getting into other kinds of trouble. You will also not be leaving this base. You have no idea how ruthless these savage natives can be."

"They're hostile," Dallas agreed.

"But, Daddy—" Stevie Rae started.

"Silence! You are not to go outside these walls, do you understand?"

His tone left no room for argument. "Yes, Daddy," she said, turning away so she didn't have to look at him, this man who had somehow replaced her father. But at least if she turned her head, he couldn't possibly see her tears.

"Good. Now, your bedroom is on the second floor—"

That was all she needed to hear. Pushing past Dallas and her father, Stevie Rae practically ran into the unfamiliar house, barely finding her room, with all her stuff already unpacked and waiting for her, before she started sobbing and collapsed onto her bed.

Her father might as well have saved his breath and told her that there was no more hope, no love, no freedom…

And in her comfortable and foreign jail cell, Stevie Rae cried herself to sleep.

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**A/N**

**So, how'd I do? Please let me know! And leaving that in a review would be much appreciated!**

**~Smiley**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N**

**Thanks to all who reviewed! Specifically…**

**-RephaimStevieRae: Aw, thanks! Yeah, I kinda want to slap her dad too, and I'm the one writing him this way!**

**-Elysse Raven-Rose: Thanks! Hopefully I won't disappoint!**

**-and AssassinsVow2012: Thank you! And I know right? A sequel would be awesome!**

**You guys are the best! Here's hoping you, and everyone else who's reading it, will like this next chapter. R&R please!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own HON. I don't own Spirit either, and since the horse is inspired by him, credit to Dreamworks.**

**~Smiley**

* * *

Chapter Two

For the next month, Stevie Rae tended to stay inside, where her "body guard" was not required. It wasn't really too hard; it wasn't like she wanted to be outside with the unbearable heat and all those men. There weren't any other girls on the base either. Just her. So she didn't end up talking to anyone except her daddy much.

Of course, her desire to stay inside might have had something to do with the countless amounts of marching horses that were outside the safety of the little cabin.

Stevie Rae fell into a little routine for what she pretty much figured was her new life. She would wake up in the morning, cook breakfast, do some sewing, clean. Once her father left the house, she paced around the room and occasionally screamed into a pillow or punched inanimate objects. It was just so…so _frustrating_ not being able to do anything.

She couldn't go outside the cabin without Dallas trailing after her. She couldn't go see what was beyond the walls, and, quite honestly, she was starting to forget what the outside even looked like. She couldn't run or scream or cry; none of those things would do her any good. She couldn't even bring herself to go look at the horses because of her over-powering fear. She couldn't even do anything right in her father's icy blue eyes; no matter what she did, he always looked at her sadly and spoke with that cruel, commanding, condescending tone.

When her father came back inside the cabin, Stevie Rae made dinner and asked him about his day. He didn't usually say much of anything, so the two went about their business in silence for the most part.

She hated every minute of it. It just hadn't used to be this way! She and her father used to be so close, and they would laugh and talk for hours every single night. He used to tuck her into bed and sing lullabies. He used to smile—really, truly smile. Years ago, they even had made a dance and a handshake that was just for them two. Whenever Stevie Rae got herself hurt, like that time she had climbed up a tree and then fallen down, her father was the one there to pick her back up. When she had fallen off a horse, he was the one who got her back up in the saddle.

But that was back before—it was back when her mother was still around. And Stevie Rae feared that her mother's death had reparably broken something inside of him.

But hadn't her momma's death broken her too? Was she a horrible person for not becoming a shell of her former self, like her father had done?

As Stevie Rae started to make the breakfast, like she did every morning, she tried to push those thoughts out of her mind. However, that had only allowed thoughts of how much she hated her new, boring, horrible life. Well, perhaps it wasn't really thoughts of hatred that made their way through the cracks of her mental defenses, but simply a heartfelt wish, dream, _hope_ that something, anything, would happen to make her life more exciting.

She hadn't realized that her prayers had started to be answered when the sound of men's shouts drifted to them through the walls of their cabin.

Stevie Rae hurried after her father as he made his way to the front door, determined to see what all the fuss was about. She normally wouldn't have, but she felt, deep down inside her, like she needed to, so she followed her father as he stepped into the chaos outside.

And chaos was summed up in two little words: wild mustang.

"Whoa!"

"C'mon, keep a hold of him!"

"Careful!"

"Man, he's stong!"

"What do we do with him?"

"What is going on here?" her father bellowed, silencing all but the horse, who kicked and reared up and tossed his head and was just doing everything in his power to free himself from the dozens of ropes tied around him.

For about a split second before her terror kicked in, Stevie Rae was filled with awe. Big and black, the stallion was nothing if not powerful. Everything about it radiated beauty and freedom and confidence. Well, perhaps it would have projected those ideals a little better if the poor thing wasn't being dragged around and forced to fight futilely for its freedom. But one thing was for certain, this stallion wasn't meant to be in here, inside this cruel military base. His place was out _there_, out in the big, open plains and huge canyons and beautiful forests, where he could be free to run and jump and fly and be what he wanted to be and go where he wanted to go and see what he wanted to see…

It hadn't occurred to Stevie Rae that she had started walking towards the mustang until she was a mere couple feet away from it. Fear swept over her, as it should, and she scurried back behind her father, away from the wild horse, and tried to convince herself that there was no sort of soul deep connection made between her and the horse in the past moment.

"We found this horse on our way back, sir. He's a wild stallion," one of the soldiers piped up.

"We've dealt with wild horses before," her father said, calmly, emotionlessly. "Bring him over to Joseph, and when he's done, put him in the corral. We can break that horse."

Even to Stevie Rae, who didn't really like horses anymore, the words sounded harsh. Break him? Why would anyone want to break that horse's spirit, which was obviously so pure and strong?

So, she really didn't have any choice but to watch and follow as the men led the stallion over to Joseph's little workplace. Her curiosity was simply too strong. Quickly tying the roped around the two post on either side of the horse, the men jumped back, obviously relieved to be finally rid of him.

Now, Joe was a big guy. A really, really big guy, with big, strong hands and big, strong arms and a big, strong body. Joe wasn't ever scared of anything, and his "courage" and "bravery" often made him arrogant to the point of stupidity when it came to dealing with animals. And, because he was the blacksmith, the animals he came into contact with most were horses. However, this did not make him any more smart, and he wasn't the least bit cautious when he strode up to the wild stallion, scissors in hand.

Naturally, it didn't end well for Joe.

Stevie Rae was actually smiling by the time they were ready to move the spirited horse to the corral. Sure, his mane got cut shorter (Stevie Rae actually thought it looked better long, but apparently that wouldn't do for a military horse) and his hooves got picked, but he managed to avoid getting branded and, by the way Joe looked afterwards, it was obvious this round went to the stallion. Somehow, she could imagine there would be a rematch.

She turned to follow the horse, and the gathering crowd, to the corral and smacked into Dallas, who had been standing behind her.

"Hey, girl," he greeted, as if it were perfectly normal for him to be standing directly behind her without her knowing.

"Hi," she said, the smile she had been wearing fading. She was still smiling, but it was a polite smile that didn't reach her eyes.

Figuring she probably couldn't shake him, she continued towards the fence of the corral. They had managed to drag the horse into a box-like fenced area that opened up into the corral, where they promptly slapped a saddle and forced the bit of the bridle into his mouth.

"Nice horse, right?" Dallas asked, but she hardly heard him. She was too busy watching the first taker climb onto the horse.

"Wait, they shouldn't be tryin' to ride him!" she blurted, as someone opened the little gate swung open into the ring. "He's dangerous!"

"I'm sure he'll be fine," Dallas said soothingly, but the mustang had burst into the ring, bucking and rearing and galloping in tight circles.

"He'll get—" she started, but the thump of the rider hitting the ground on the other side of the fence cut her off. "Thrown," she finished.

Dallas laughed, and Stevie Rae looked at him with questioning, shocked, wide eyes.

"What?" he asked. "He's fine. Adam wasn't a good rider to begin with. He was stupid to try ridin' an unbroken horse like him."

There was that word again, and again Stevie Rae was shocked at how harsh it sounded. Unbroken. Breaking. Broken. Was she the only one who had a slight problem with the term?

When they finally got the horse back into the little box-like area with the gate shut, a guy next to Stevie Rae said loudly, "My turn," and hopped the fence and onto the horse. Stevie Rae had to fight the urge to shut her eyes as he got thrown, and the man after him, and then the next guy, and the next and the next and the next, all in different, unique ways.

Yet, surprisingly, especially to herself, she found she couldn't help but be in the stallion's corner. Who were they to try and tame his power? Who were they to strip him of his freedom? Who were they to try and ride this mustang, to try and take away his confidence and beauty and ferocity?

Besides, these boys were being just plain stupid. Seriously, what in the world was making them keep trying to break this horse? Guy pride? Testosterone? Or plain old stupidity?

Even though none of the guys crowded around the ring showed any sign of giving up, the stallion gained more and more confidence with every rider that was thrown, and that was every single guy who had stepped into the saddle. After a while, they didn't even need to try to get him to the mounting area; he trotted over there with his head held high, ready to throw the next rider.

Stevie Rae hadn't exactly pegged Dallas as stupid, but eventually he, too, just had to have a crack at breaking the wild egg.

"I'm gonna give it a try now!" he called.

"You're crazy if ya think you'd last five seconds on that thing," she told him.

"You wait and see, girl," he said. "What'll ya give me if I last six?"

"I won't give ya nothin'," she said.

"Well, how 'bout ya let me kiss ya?" he said, grinning like a fool.

"Nuh-huh," she said, but the guys around her started making the typical _ooh_ and _c'mon_ noises.

She never had been good against a crowd. "Alright!" she finally said, just to shut them up. "Ya last more than ten seconds, you can kiss me."

He beamed and practically bolted over and into the saddle of the horse. She rolled her eyes as he let out a big _yeehaw!_ as the gate swung open.

"One!" the crowd chanted. "Two!"

_Please, ya big, scary, wild horse_, she thought at the stallion. _You can throw him. You can do it. Don't ya let him kiss me_.

"Three!"

_Please_, she begged. _Please._

"Four!"

She was starting to get nervous. She had originally bet on a mere five, and she was thankful she had made it ten.

"Five!"

_C'mon, ya mustang!_ she thought. _Throw him! Okay, well maybe not enough to hurt him, but just enough so he can't kiss me…_

"Six!"

"C'mon, mustang," Dallas said to the horse, breathless. "I wanna kiss her!"

"Seven!"

_No!_ Stevie Rae's mind screamed at the stallion. _Please, are ya tellin' me that after all those people, Dallas is gonna be the one to break you?!_

"Eight!"

By now, Dallas was getting cocky. "Is that all ya got, mustang?"

_Don't let him break you!_ Stevie Rae was close to screaming the words out loud. _You're stronger than he is! You're stronger than all of 'em! Don't let him be the one to break you! Not him! Please! Don't let anyone break you! Your heart can't—shouldn't—get broken! Don't let 'em take you're the heart of your freedom!_

It was in that second that the stallion got Stevie Rae's message. The crowd was inhaling, ready to shout the next number, when the mustang feinted a left, reared up, jumped, bucked in the air, and landed.

"Nine!"

Dallas stuck the landing. He was gonna make it to ten.

Stevie Rae could've cried right then and there.

But the mustang wasn't done yet. He ran and slammed his left side into the fence right where Stevie Rae was. Not only did the crash cause Stevie Rae to scramble back a couple steps, but it also unlatched the girth, causing the saddle to slide. It also caused Dallas to lose the left stirrup, and he couldn't do anything to stop himself from sliding off to the right side.

The thump of him hitting the ground was echoed by the collective shouting of, "Ten!"

Stevie Rae nearly cried of sheer happiness right then and there.

And, she could have sworn that horse had smiled at her, or at least was smiling with his eyes. _See_, he seemed to say. _And you thought I couldn't throw him, didn't you?_

"I never doubted you for a minute," she whispered.

Of course, she didn't want Dallas to get hurt, but she was overjoyed that he wasn't going to be kissing her anytime soon. He was perfectly nice and maybe just a little bit cute, but she didn't want to kiss someone on a dare. That, and she really didn't want to be kissing/dating anyone right now.

Dallas was fine and already getting to his feet. The horse, who had been taking a victory trot, suddenly turned towards Dallas, obviously upset by his lingering presence. Dallas noticed the change in the horses attitude just after Stevie Rae did.

"Whoa!" he yelled, scrambling towards the fence as the stallion charged him. He barely managed to leap through the rails before the mustang slammed into the fence for the second time.

As two guys grabbed Dallas' arms and hauled him to his feet, the stallion started charging other areas of the ring, causing groups of men to scramble back fence. Stevie Rae inwardly scolded herself.

_See, that's what horses are really like: unpredictable, heartless, dangerous_. She melted back into her fear, welcoming it and cloaking it around her protectively. She knew better than to even think about liking this horse.

He slammed into different parts of the fence multiple times until he finally spotted the one real person he really wanted to scare. Running head on, he charged towards Stevie Rae's father.

She was about to shout a warning, thinking the stallion was going to run straight through the fence and trample her father. She was truly terrified of the thought, but the mustang screeched to a halt just before he slammed into the fence, breathing heavily. Her father didn't so much as blink.

"Sergeant," he said.

"Yes, sir," a man said, rushing up to his side. Her father's words carried clearly over to her; fate wouldn't want her to not be able to witness what happened next.

"Tie this horse to the post. Don't give him any food or water for a couple days. Then we'll see just how hard he is to break then."

"Yes, sir," the sergeant said, but her father had already turned away, off to do something better with his time.

Stevie Rae had almost forgotten, watching that horse. That stallion could never scare her father. Was a boulder scared of a horse? No. Was ice afraid of getting trampled, or leaving a daughter behind? No. Her father was no different. He was completely apathetic in regards to the world. Maybe on the outside he looked the same, but on the inside, his heart was made of stone and frozen over. That wasn't her father over there. It was just his shell.

Her father would never have ordered a horse's harm like that. Her father would never have allowed her to get pressured into making a bet like the one she had. Her father probably would have let the horse go.

But that wasn't her father over there, now was it? It was just his shell.

Funny how that horse had almost made her forget it.

* * *

**A/N**

**Please review! I promise it will pick up more when Rephaim shows up, which should be in the next chapter, hopefully.**

**~Smiley**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N**

**Thanks to all who reviewed! Specifically…**

**-Oopz**

**-RephaimStevieRae**

**-NataOne (for both chapters)**

**-Zappleberry**

**-and AssassinsVow2012**

**You guys are the best! Your reviews are totally fueling this story, and, partially because of NataOne's, "WHEREs REPHAAAAAAAAIM?" and partially because I had planned his appearance and desperately want him to come into play (I have big plans, I tell you, big plans), this will be the chapter where Rephaim comes onto the scene. =D**

**Disclaimer: Nope. Don't own HON. Don't own **_**Spirit, Stallion of the Cimarron**_**. **

**~Smiley**

* * *

Chapter Three

This horse would just not shut up.

Seriously, the stallion had been tied to the post for hours now, and it still relentlessly tried to free itself to no avail. It was admirable, but his constant neighs and whinnies and general cries were starting to get to Stevie Rae. All the panicked and enraged cries were starting to sound like the night her mother…

"_Mama, come back inside!" Stevie Rae had pleaded. "It's way too dangerous out there!"_

"_I'll only be a minute, darlin'," her mother had assured her. "I just gotta get the horses inside. They deserve to be kept dry too, right?"_

_Thunder boomed around them the same time the lightning flashed, lighting up the sky and streaking down to the earth. The storm was, quite literally, completely upon them. Winds reached speeds of more than one hundred miles per hour, and several trees and debris had already fallen around the yard. Not to mention, it was pitch black, the only light emitted from the lightning._

"_Ginny, get back inside the house!" her father screamed, but her mother didn't turn around. Maybe she hadn't been able to hear him. Knowing that he couldn't reach his wife, Andrew Johnson instead reached for his daughter, ushering her off the porch and into the house._

_When Stevie Rae was safely tucked inside, he charged back outside, into the storm and the rain and the thunder and towards his wife. Stevie Rae scrambled to the window, trying to see what was happening. However, it was too dark to see anything. She didn't catch once glimpse of the horrible scene unfold, but she could hear everything…_

"Stop!" she shrieked. She had just been trying to stop the memory, but, even though she hadn't meant to say the words aloud, her subconsciousness had used her voice to beat the atrocious night back from the front of her mind. Unfortunately, she was so surprised by her own noise that she had dropped the plate she had been drying, and it shattered at over the floor.

"Darlin'?" her daddy called, stepping into the doorway of the tiny kitchen. "You alright in here?"

She dropped to her knees, sweeping up the shards into her hands, not caring that she was getting scratched. "Don't-don't do that. You're going to hurt yourself," her father said, taking the broken pieces from her hands and picking up the remainder that was still on the floor. Placing them into his strong, hard hands, he then put them in the trash.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," Stevie Rae said shakily. "I just dropped—"

"It's alright, darlin'," he replied. "Why don't I help you with the rest of the dishes? I'll wash, you dry."

She nodded, allowing herself to smile. It would be like in the old days when they laughed and talked and actually joked around after dinner.

Her father didn't say much, and she was beginning to think that she'd let her hopes get too high too fast. But then…SPLASH! Her father, who had been washing out a pan, turned and dumped the water and soap onto her head!

Stevie Rae gave a surprised squeal, and then, laughing, she grabbed a big bowl and shoved it into the sink, which was filled with water, filling it up. Her father had crossed the room, expecting this, but she thrust the bowl outward, launching the water into the air until it crashed down like a wave onto her daddy. He laughed—actually laughed!—and grabbed his daughter, throwing her over his shoulder like she was very little and spinning around and around. Shrieking with joy, Stevie Rae playfully pounded on her father's shoulders, squealing things like, "Put me down!" or "Help!" She didn't mean them though, and she secretly wished this moment could go on forever. It was just like the old times.

Unfortunately, the moment shattered with a loud, official sounding knock on the front door.

Her father tensed, and he stiffly put her down. The ice had returned to his eyes, and she knew she had lost him. He briskly walked to the front door, opening it. Stevie Rae followed, curious to see what was going on. She could hear muffled grunts and shouts, so she couldn't help but try to peak over her daddy's shoulder. She was too short to see over him, so she tried peaking around him, but he was too built and the door was too small.

She should have gone back into the kitchen and finished the dishes like any good, sensible daughter would have done. What was going on outside the cabin was none of her business, and she knew that. But still, she couldn't help but feel compelled to stand witness.

After all, even the mustang had stopped its noise and watched.

Finally, her father stepped through the doorway and onto the porch, the soldier at the door, who she briefly acknowledged as Dallas, moving aside so he could get a clear view. Stevie Rae had meant to follow him outside, but what she saw had her frozen in the doorway. It had her breath frozen in her lungs. It had her words frozen in her throat.

_Ohmygood_ness, she thought. She had heard stories about…about them, but she had never once thought she'd see them in person, especially not on the stairs of her front porch.

A…native.

Two soldiers had his arms pinned behind his back, and they had forced him to his knees before her father. He had been really roughed up; he had several cuts on his bare chest and upper arms, a black eye, and his hair had black feathers sticking out of it. She had heard enough to know the feathers were supposed to have been braided into its length, but, to her, it was just evidence that he hadn't been dragged here without a fight, even though he had been hopelessly outnumbered.

_Daddy will say something about this. He shouldn't have been beaten up, right? Daddy will tell them so_, Stevie Rae thought confidently, crossing her arms. Her father wouldn't let them get away with hurting someone.

"A hostile," her father said instead. "Good work, men." His voice was cold.

Stevie Rae saw Dallas smiling goofily at her out of the corner of her eye, but she was too focused on the scene in front of her to give him the time of day. Not that there was much time left in the day anyway. It wouldn't take five more minutes for the sun to completely disappear beneath the horizon.

"What should we do with him, sir?" one of the soldiers holding the native's arms asked.

"Tie him to the post," her father replied, jerking his head at the wooden pole right outside the corral with the mustang tied up inside. "No food or water either."

"Yes, sir," Dallas said and, winking at her, followed the other men as they dragged the native over to the post. She couldn't watch as they kicked him in the gut to make him go down. She stared sympathetically at him for a moment, only catching his eye for a second, before turning and following her father back into the house.

"I'm going to go to bed, Stevie Rae," her father said. There was no emotion in his voice, and she was scared that that was becoming his normal tone. "Good night."

"Night, Daddy," she said to his back. But she was only taking to his shell.

Stevie Rae finished the dishes, and then she did a little straightening up in the kitchen and the living room before finally residing to go upstairs into her own little bedroom, deciding she should probably get some sleep. She even changed into her nightclothes.

But she just couldn't get him out of her head. His black hair, black as the midnight sky, his eyes, a dark, mysterious brown…she couldn't get them to leave her tormented mind alone.

That was when she heard the croaking of a raven.

_Gronk! Gronk!_

She went to her window. She had never seen a raven before, although she had heard them once. One of her older brothers had told her what it was. They hadn't moved out here with her and her father after momma died though. Still, she couldn't help but wonder what a raven looked like.

Outside, she could see the mustang's corral. And she could see the post they had tied the native to. It wasn't too far from their cabin. But, worst of all, she could see all the cuts and bruises on the poor guy. Like the mustang, he too was struggling against the ropes that bound him.

But, as she watched, his movements slowed and eventually stopped. He looked utterly and completely exhausted.

She didn't like the decision she'd made. Not at all. But that didn't stop her from tugging on her trousers and a top and sneaking downstairs.

Thankfully, the cabin was newly built, and the floorboards didn't creak too much. Still, she tiptoed as she went into the kitchen cabinet. She grabbed cleaning alcohol, some old towels, a bowl of water and a ladle, and some of the leftovers.

Her father was going to deny him food and water? Too bad.

She carefully opened the front door, quietly shutting it behind her. Thankfully, her father was a deep sleeper, and she wasn't too worried about him waking up. But she couldn't help but think, _Daddy is going to kill me!_ as she stepped out into the night.

She stood on the front porch for a moment, trying to decide whether or not she should do what she was about to do. But she couldn't just _not_ do it.

The native didn't look at her. Instead, he was looking up at the stars.

_Gronk! Gronk!_

She realized with a start that he was the one making the raven noises. Of course! Ravens weren't owls; they weren't nocturnal, and it was the middle of the night.

Carefully, she approached him. Slowly, so she wouldn't startle him, she set the things down on the ground. He didn't look at her until she dropped to her knees beside him.

"Hi," she said quietly. "I figured I could try and patch you up and stuff with these," she gestured to the rubbing alcohol and towels, "and I brought some food and water in case you were hungry or thirsty."

He didn't reply.

"So, uh, do ya think I should clean ya up first or do ya want something to eat?" she asked. It then occurred to her that he might not even speak English. She wanted to slap herself in the head for being so stupid. He probably didn't have a clue as to what she was saying!

He was silent for another moment, and she bit her lip, thinking of other ways to communicate with him. This was going to be harder than she thought.

"Water." She heard the word, but it took her a moment before she realized he was the one who had rasped it.

"You can talk!" she blurted, and then realized how asinine that sounded. "Er, I-I mean, of course you can talk, but you can speak English."

"Yes," he said. "I can speak your language."

"Oh, great!" she said, relieved.

"I suppose you are not going to give me water, then?" he asked, but his voice was filled with pain. It hadn't occurred to her that his insides might be more hurt than his outsides.

"Oh, yeah, sure!" she squeaked, feeling like a fool. She didn't realized her hands were trembling until she dropped the ladle, and then had to fumble around to pick it up again, clean it with her shirt, and finally dip it back into the water. She hesitated only for a moment before bringing it to his lips, holding it with both hands so she could tip it back as he drank. She had to dip it back in the water two more times before he'd had his fill. She knew he had to be thirsty. It was nighttime, but it was still really, really hot.

"Thank you," he said.

"You're welcome," she said. "So, I brought some alcohol to clean those cuts—"

"Alcohol?" he said questioningly.

"Yeah. It helps wounds not to get infected and stuff," she explained.

"I have never heard of it," he said.

Stevie Rae shrugged. "Well, I got it out here now, so—"

"You are going to use it?" he finished.

"Yeah, if that's a-okay with you. I might sting a little bit, but it would be a hell of a lot worse if those cuts get infected."

"Very well," he said simply.

"Okie dokie then," she said, pouring some alcohol onto one of the towels. "Uh, okay, well, here goes." She gently pressed the cloth to his largest wound, hesitating for a moment before slowly and carefully rubbing it down the length of the cut. He was able to regain control of his features quickly, but not before she had seen a wince of pain when he experienced the sting the alcohol was sure to have brought.

She was able to flush it out a couple more times (and throughout this, he carefully kept his facial features in check, giving away nothing) before she felt like she was suffocating. Of course, it wasn't oxygen she was lacking; it was conversation. To her, the silence that had fallen over them was smothering her.

She flicked her gaze from his cuts to his eyes. "So," she said, pouring more alcohol on the towel, "those were some pretty cool bird noises." She tried to keep her tone upbeat, but it probably sounded awkward.

He only grunted in response.

"Was that a raven?"

He nodded.

"I heard a raven once, but I never got to see one." She paused a moment, but he didn't reply. "Do you know what they look like?" she finally asked, desperate for an answer.

Again, he nodded.

"Can you describe 'em for me?" _Good_ness_, what did it take to get this guy to talk?_ she thought.

He looked at her for a moment, as if to see if she was joking, but finally replied, "They're black."

"Well, I'd heard that. What else?"

"Why are you so interested in these birds?" he asked.

Stevie Rae shrugged. "I don't know. Just curious, I guess."

He looked thoughtful for a moment, as if he were trying to decide on something difficult. "Would you hurt one?"

"A bird? Why would I ever hurt a bird?"

"Am I to assume that means you would not wish a raven harm?" he asked.

"No, I would never hurt a little raven, but why are you—"

She was interrupted by his quick, loud, clear, "_Gronk! Gronk! Gronk!_"

Stevie Rae just stared at him, wide-eyed, trying to figure out what he'd done and why he'd done it. Was she in danger? Was he calling someone? She would be in so much trouble if she got herself kidnapped—

Frantic thoughts were interrupted by the flutter of wings, and, like a dark shadow of an angel, a large, black bird dropped gracefully from the black sky and landed on the top of the post.

"Ohmygood_ness_," Stevie Rae gasped, scrambling back in shock and dropping the alcohol-soaked towel she'd been holding. She didn't bother to pick it up; she simply stared, wide-eyed and awestruck, up at the bird above her.

Stevie Rae memorized the sight of the bird. He was almost like a crow, but he was larger and had a thicker bill. But it was his glossy, well-kept feathers that really caught her eye. Dang! They were so black and beautiful! With a start, Stevie Rae realized that the same feathers had been braided into the boy's hair, even though they were now practically falling out after being so roughed up.

Still, there was something about the bird. Something mysterious that she couldn't quite put her finger on. Something almost…magickal. "Wow," she breathed, her tense shoulders relaxing. Yes, there was definitely something magickal about him.

"Is he yours?" she asked.

"Bhavesh belongs to no one," he replied, but then he added, "but he is my friend and has a tendency to follow me around."

"Bhavesh." She tested the name coming off her lips. "That's a cool name."

He nodded. "It suits him."

"Why? What does it mean?" she asked, genuinely curious.

"Lord of the world."

Stevie Rae giggled. "_Gronk_!" the raven croaked at her, as if daring her to say that he was anything less.

"What?" she asked him. "I think that name fits you perfectly."

"_Gronk, gronk_!" She could only interpret that as, _You better._

Stevie Rae didn't reply to the bird, instead focusing on taking another towel and dipping it into the water. She carefully cleaned his wounds again, even though the water wouldn't sting him. When she was finished, she asked him, "Do you want something to eat?"

He did not answer, and she was about to repeat herself when he said, "No, thank you."

"Look, I don't really want to tell ya what you should and shouldn't do, but you speak English; you heard what my daddy said. No food or water. Ya might not be hungry now, but you're sure to be hungry later. And that means—"

"Why would you tend to my wounds and bring me food and water if your father specifically forbade it?" he asked.

Stevie Rae blinked at him, surprised, but thought her answer through before telling him. "I don't know," she said honestly, "but I do know that I don't like the idea of ya being tied up and neglected. I don't think that's right, even though I do think I should probably listen to my daddy."

"I do not understand you."

"Yeah, well, that makes two of us. You want food or not? I should probably get back inside before Daddy realizes I'm gone."

"No, thank you. I will be fine."

"Are ya sure?" she asked, not really believing him. She was also suddenly worried, afraid to leave him here, fearing what they would do to him in the morning.

"Yes," he stated.

"_Gronk_!" Bhavesh croaked.

"Although, Bhavesh is always hungry," the native said.

Stevie Rae laughed and eagerly opened up the large cloth napkin she had folded the leftovers in. "Well, he's welcome to them," she said, and Bhavesh, as if he understood exactly what she was saying, swooped down, grabbed a chunk of meat, and flew back up to his perch.

"Would ya like more water then?" she asked.

He thought about it for a moment, but finally nodded yes. She grabbed to ladle and helped him to drink his fill.

"Alright, well, I'm gotta get back inside," she said. He nodded, and she quickly packed up everything she had brought out, careful not to leave so much as a clue to her being out here. She stood up, expecting to have to just walk away in silence, when he piped up. "My name is Rephaim."

She smiled at him. "I'm Stevie Rae. Nice to meet ya, Rephaim." She turned and started to go back to her cabin. "Oh," she added, on second thought, "and nice meeting you too, Bhavesh!"

* * *

**A/N**

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	4. Chapter 4

**A/N**

**Thanks to all who reviewed! Specifically…**

**-baby Cyclopes**

**-RephaimStevieRae**

**-NataOne**

**-and Guest**

**You guys are awesome! Thank you so much! Hope you like this chapter! No Rephaim, sorry, but Bhavesh makes an appearance and you get some backstory!**

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* * *

Chapter Four

Sunlight hadn't even yet streaked through the window when the damned trumpet started making that awful noise. _Get up!_ it sounded. _Time to start a new day!_

"It's worse than a rooster," Stevie Rae mumbled aloud, just to hear something besides the stupid horn. "Earlier too."

Well, perhaps she wouldn't have hated it so much this particular morning if she hadn't spent the better half of the night outside with Rephaim.

_Rephaim_. The name he had given her seemed to echo around her little room, pulsing with a mysterious and unknown power. Ignoring it, Stevie Rae sat up and stretched, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. The trumpet launched into another line of racket, and, trying to distract herself from thoughts of last night, Stevie Rae said to the wall, "I didn't even like that rooster, but he and the scary, stupid, clucking hens were better than a trumpet and scary, stupid, loud guys with guns."

But be it by rooster or trumpet, Stevie Rae had been woken up, and now she couldn't deny that she had to face another day. After all, she actually had something she wanted—no, needed—to do. Changing out of the trousers and shirt she hadn't bothered to change out of after sneaking back in last night and into her light blue prairie dress, she braced herself for the new day. The dress was pretty plain and simple, with short sleeves and a fitted bodice that clung to her thin frame. Stevie Rae wasn't particularly fond of dresses, but this one wasn't so bad. When she was little, her excuse for hating dresses and skirts was because they were hard to ride in, but now, after she had sworn off riding and horses in general, her only excuse was that old habits die hard.

Besides, this dress was perfect for what she needed to do. It was casual, but it enhanced her features and reflected the color of her eyes. Put simply, it was pretty, but it didn't look like she was trying too hard. And that's what she needed. Innocence. Simplicity. Things that would make people underestimate her.

Stevie Rae rushed through her chores this morning. Quick breakfast. Quick sweeping. It was easy enough considering she had gotten so used to going through the motions. Her father left the house, off to do god-knows-what. It probably consisted of marching horses and shouted orders. It didn't matter to her. As long as he was busy, he wouldn't be paying attention to her.

She left the house shortly after her father did. Pausing on the porch for a moment, she looked around for him. There! Up on the lookout post on the wall!

_Do I really wanna do this?_ she thought, stopping short on the first step. _I mean, maybe Daddy_ would _tell me_…

No. Her father would never tell her what she wanted to know. He would tell her that it didn't concern her, or that it wasn't something a lady should worry about, or…

_Gronk!_

Stevie Rae jumped right out of her skin. Lost in thought, she hadn't even realized that Bhavesh had landed on the railing right next to her!

"Good mornin'!" she chirped.

_Gronk!_ he replied.

"Ya know, I don't think ya should be here, Bhavesh," Stevie Rae whispered to him. "These guys are super superstitious, and I don't think they'd take to you too well."

_Gronk! Gronk!_ he complained, obviously offended.

"Oh, well, ya know I like you, but I don't want ya to get hurt."

_Gronk! _he croaked, as if to say, "Let them try! I fear nothing!"

"Bhavesh!"

_Gronk! _He looked at her with those black eyes, and it was like he was looking into her soul. He knew she was up to something, but whether he was for or against it, Stevie Rae didn't know.

"What?"

_Gronk!_

"Oh, c'mon, Bhavesh! Get outta here before they see you."

_Gronk!_

"And I got things I need to do."

_Gronk!_ he said, but she could practically hear him saying, "Yeah, so why aren't you doing it?"

"Look, I'm nervous, all right?" she confessed. "I'm not sure if I want to know what I'm gonna be askin'."

_Gronk!_ he croaked, but she knew he meant, "Is that all?"

"Yes! No! Oh, I don't even know! I guess I don't really like havin' to ask Dallas either."

Bhavesh bobbed his head, nodding.

"But I have to do this, don't I?"

Bhavesh kept nodding.

"Okay, here I go," she said, but she was still unnerved. "Ya got another two cents to throw in?" she asked, not really expecting an answer.

"Courage."

It was a croak, and it definitely wasn't too human sounding, but the word was unmistakable. Courage.

"What?" she asked, whipping her head around to face him, but the raven was gone.

Bhavesh could talk?! Well, no, but ravens were able to mimic aspects of human speech. Guess he learned something.

Still, it was strange that he had chosen to say that word. But, oddly enough, she found her fear melting away, and she felt oddly comforted. She was even able to smile as she made her way to the huge fence, and, ultimately, the lookout post where she knew she would find Dallas.

He spotted her as she climbed up the wooden stairs to him. Leaning nonchalantly back on the big, wooden fence that surrounded the entire base, he greeted, "G'mornin', cutie."

"Hey, Dallas," Stevie Rae said, smiling politely. Meanwhile, his face sported a full-blown grin.

"What are you doin' outta the house?" he asked. Then, as if realizing how his words could have been taken offensively, he added, "I mean, it's not like it's a bad thing that you're out and about. And I definitely don't think ya should stay cooped up inside all the time. It's just that you usually don't come outside too often. But, it's a nice day to come outside. Really."

Stevie Rae couldn't help but giggle. He looked so lost and apologetic and little-boyish that she couldn't help herself. Sure, maybe he was a little annoying at times, but she didn't know him that well. Maybe they could be friends. That would make her daddy happy, if anything.

"So, uh, if ya don't mind me askin', why are you out?" he asked gently, shyly.

"Actually," she said, "I wanted to ask you a question."

His entire face lit up. "Really?" he asked, obviously excited. Then he paused and regained some composure. Just some. "I mean, really?" he said, trying not to sound so overjoyed.

"Yeah. You see, I was kinda wonderin'…well, how do I put this…hmmm…well, it's about that guy you and those other two dragged in here yesterday."

"Oh." Dallas sounded a little disappointed. "What about him?"

"I was just kinda sorta wonderin' why y'all captured him and beat him up," she said.

"He was a scout," Dallas said.

"A scout?"

"Yeah. He was spying on the base so he and his friends could try and ambush us."

"Why would he do that?"

"Because they hate us. They're evil."

"Okay, that's what I actually wanted to ask you about. Why are they so evil?" she asked.

"So, ya wanna hear the legends or the history?" he asked.

"Both," she replied.

"Okay. So, legend first. I'll keep it short and sweet for you, girl." His voice took on a story-telling, woo-woo tone, as if he were trying to fill his words with some sort of magic. Maybe he could have, if he hadn't been too busy mixing the legend with mockery, as if he were trying to show her he wasn't scared and that she shouldn't take it seriously either.

"Even before we started trying to settle way out here, there were rumors. Stories of a people who weren't like us. Who weren't like the other Indians either. These people, rumor had it, possessed some sort of weird, powerful magic." Dallas threw in some complimentary hand gestures to make the story more dramatic. "The other natives said that they were protected by the Earth Mother, but we knew they were probably just using a little Black Magic. Trades with the Devil, that kinda thing. Anyway, they had these 'spirit animals'"—Dallas used air quotations—"to 'guide' and 'protect' them. The weird, magick-y thing 'bout them was that these particular hostiles were, supposedly, of course, the 'embodiment' of what they're 'spirit animal' represented." He paused, probably for dramatic effect.

"Wait, hold on. What do ya mean by embodiment? Give me an example, what do you mean?" she probably should have tried to hide her interest and excitement, but she was actually getting somewhere!

"Well, okay. Let's see," Dallas said as he clapped his hands together and looked around him. "Take—take the horse, for example. I'm pretty sure they stand for stamina and power. So then the hostile with a horse spirit animal would have a lot of strength—power—that they could use for a long time—stamina. That would probably make them good warriors."

Stevie Rae nodded. "So, then, what 'bout the history part?"

Dallas chuckled. "Wow, you're really into this, aren't ya? Well, when we first came out here, they just attacked us. 'Course, they didn't have guns or nothin', so they didn't last too long. Try to make one little settlement and BOOM! They come runnin' and screamin' with their arrows and clubs and axes—I mean, c'mon! Like all this land ain't big enough for the both of us?"

"But what did we do to set them off like that? Maybe we started cutting down trees on scared land or—" she started.

"Or nothin'. Those hostiles had it out for us from the very beginning, and that one down there's no different. That's why they're evil, girl. They've messed with the wrong kind of magic or somethin', and now they wanna kill us all."

Stevie Rae knew that she wasn't going to get anything else out of Dallas. Not today, at least. So she put on a big smile and said, "'Kay, thanks, Dallas!" She started to turn to go back down and, eventually, back to her little cabin.

"Oh, and Dallas?" she asked, turning back around. He lifted his gaze up from where it dropped onto the ground, eagerly meeting her eyes.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"Would ya mind not mentionin' anythin' to my daddy 'bout this conversation?" she asked. "I mean, he just wouldn't understand."

Dallas nodded, but he seemed disappointed. "Sure, anything for you, girl," he said. "You were just a little curious, right?"

This time, she didn't have to force her smile. "Right. Thanks again, Dallas!"

When she finally made it back inside, she let out a sigh of relief. That wasn't so bad, and she had found out what she wanted to know. And maybe she didn't like Dallas all too much, but he wasn't that bad a guy. Maybe he was even a little cute, in a boyish kinda way.

All that was left for her to do was wait. Wait until nightfall, when she could sneak out and maybe even speak to him again. At least now she would be speaking to him without the blindfold; now that she had some information, she wouldn't be taking a shot in the dark when she stepped out into the night. She tried to shake herself out of it, but she couldn't stop her thoughts from murmuring, speaking, yelling the same name over and over again, in excitement, in anguish, in fear, in joy.

_Rephaim._

_Tonight_, she told herself_. Just gotta wait until tonight_.

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	5. Chapter 5

**A/N**

**Thanks to all who reviewed! Specifically…**

**-NataOne**

**-RephaimStevieRae**

**-and StephaimFan4Ever**

**You guys rock! Okay, so I decided to get this chapter going so I can move onto Camping and Drama. Hopefully you'll like this one! And yes, there's Stephaim! I'm so sorry I took so long to update, but I made the chapter super-duper long (11 pages), so please forgive me! Don't forget to review!**

**Disclaimer: Yeah…uhhh…No. Uh, no. No, I don't own.**

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* * *

Chapter Five

Stevie Rae lay on her back, resting on top of the covers on her bed. The brilliant moonlight streaked through the window above the bed, basking her pale face in its silver rays. The moon was only a crescent tonight, and the sky was clear. The stars, twinkling high above her, looked as if they had been painted on a navy-black canvas.

An hour ago, Stevie Rae had heard her father's heavy footsteps as he stumbled into his own bedroom. She had listened intently as he mulled around until she finally heard the creaks and moans of the bed as it supported her father's weight. She had waited another while for the sound of his deep breathing and ground-shaking snores to carry through the wooden walls of the house.

From her own room, now, she was at war with herself. She knew what she should do, and ultimately what she was going to do, but, at the same time, she knew she shouldn't do what she should do.

Rephaim.

Yes, that one, simple name summed up her situation quite well. Bundled up in that two-syllabled, seven-lettered name lied all of her restlessness, self-confliction, and confusion. Indirectly, she could even say that the name caused that evening's course of events.

She had spoken to Dallas earlier that day, and, even though he gave her a good deal of information, she had still wanted to know a little more. And, although he was the least likely to tell her anything, her father knew anything and everything that went on around this military base and the next.

It had been stupid of her to bring it up. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She knew he would get angry with her for asking, but the silence at the dinner table was eating away at her. He hadn't seemed in any worse of a mood than usual, so, for a fraction of a second, she had foolishly thought, _What's the harm in askin'?_

"Daddy?" she had asked.

He granted her a grunt of acknowledgement.

"Can I ask ya somethin'?" she had asked.

"You just did, darlin'," he had said. That was a line he used to say all the time, but he hadn't used it in a while.

Stevie Rae had taken this as a good sign. Smiling, she had said, "Well, I was just wonderin'…Ya know how those boys dragged that native guy here the other night?"

Her father had nodded woodenly.

"Well, I couldn't help but be curious as to why they beat him up and brought him here."

He father was silent for a long time, and she had started to wonder whether she should try asking again or drop the subject entirely when he spoke. "Stevie Rae, it is not important for you to know this."

"Well, I was just wonderin'…" Her voice had trailed off, and her father sighed.

"The men had found that same hostile by the food cart two days ago, and we think he stole or was trying to steal some of our supplies."

"Oh," she had said. "Then what happened?"

"Unfortunately, the hostile had gotten away that night, but his own arrogance brought him back here a second time. We believe he was a scout—that he had been sent ahead of his fellow savages to scope out the area so they could plan an attack. But we were ready for him this time, and, well, now you can see how we dealt with the hostile."

Stevie Rae had let this information soak in. Finally, she had asked, "But, Daddy, how do ya know he was plannin' an attack?"

"Excuse me?" he father had asked.

"Please don't take this the wrong way, Daddy, but did ya ever try askin' him why he was here?"

Her father's fist had slammed down on the table with such force and speed that the entire room shook. Surprised, she had jumped, and she immediately knew she had crossed a line.

"You are too young and too new to this area to know anything about these natives," he started. "I understand that you're just a girl and that girls are curious, but you have no right to question anything my men or I say or do." His voice had risen to the point where it, too, made the entire room shake. "Am I making myself clear?!"

"Y-yes, sir."

"Then you are dismissed."

Stevie Rae didn't clean up after dinner. Instead, she had run straight upstairs when her father had dismissed her, hardly able to hold back the tears until she was safely behind her bedroom door. When she'd been really little, Stevie Rae had gotten really scared during thunderstorms, and her father had always been there to keep her safe and sheltered. But, now, the thunder of his voice and the lightning that flashed in his icy eyes were the most frightening thing she had ever seen, and no one was there to comfort her.

_Gronk!_

The sound of Bhavesh croaking outside shattered her thoughts, and, instead, she remembered the last thing the raven had said: "Courage."

_Yeah_, she thought as she tugged on her jeans and a comfortable shirt. _I'm gonna need a heck of a lot more of that if I'm gonna survive in this prison._

Meanwhile, Rephaim was outside sitting under the stars. Not like he had much of a choice. And not like it was his choice to only have an egotistical raven for company.

_Gronk!_

But, no matter how annoying or egotistical his feathered friend may be, Rephaim couldn't help his thoughts from going back to that girl he had met last night. She had come from the cabin of the man who had ordered him tied up, and he didn't doubt that the same man had ordered the horse in the corral behind him tied up as well.

Not to mention how he had probably ordered the girl bound as well. Just because she wasn't tied to a post like the mustang, or even himself, didn't mean that she wasn't just as imprisoned.

_Gronk!_

Rephaim turned his head up so he could see the bird, who was perched at the top of the post he was tied to. "Bhavesh," he asked, "do you think she is going to come outside again tonight?"

_Gronk!_

Rephaim continued as if Bhavesh hadn't spoken. "More importantly, why do you think she came last night?"

_Gronk! Gronk! _Rephaim knew he meant, "Didn't you ask her that last night?"

Rephaim continued as if he hadn't understood him. "She must be trying to gain my trust. Yes, that must be it, Bhavesh. But she, along with her friends, will learn that I will not be so easily broken."

_Gronk!_

Rephaim knew that Bhavesh didn't agree with what he had said, and, deep down, Rephaim didn't agree with or believe it either a word he said. But trying to believe a lie was better than trying to wrap his head around the elusive truth.

_Gronk! _"You know," Bhavesh seemed to say, "you could just try asking her again, you idiot."

Rephaim chose to ignore what he knew Bhavesh was telling him. Instead, he asked, "Bhavesh, do you remember the plan?"

_Gronk!_ Rephaim knew from the way the raven rustled his feathers and puffed up that Bhavesh meant, "You insult me."

"Then, if you remember the plan so well, what are you still doing here?" By all the gods, ravens were frustrating.

Bhavesh didn't answer him. Instead, he turned his head towards the little wooden house, and, curious, Rephaim did the same.

Stevie Rae.

She stepped out onto the porch, slowly closing the door behind her and tiptoeing down the front steps. She obviously didn't want to be heard.

Rephaim looked back up where Bhavesh had been, but all that was above him was the night sky. He hadn't heard Bhavesh take off, but Rephaim wasn't exactly surprised to find he had disappeared. Ravens were known for being magickal, and, although it was pretty easy to forget, Bhavesh was no exception.

"Hey," Stevie Rae said, coming up next to Rephaim. "Where'd Bhavesh disappear to? He was right there a second ago."

Rephaim shrugged as best he could with his hands tied to a post behind his back.

"Oh, well, are ya hungry? I made some extra stuff when I was cookin' dinner tonight and figured I'd bring it out just in case ya were." She sat down on the ground next to him, carefully placing the food, which was wrapped in a little checked cloth, and a canteen in between them.

Rephaim opened his mouth to tell her no, but, in truth, he was hungry. His mouth watered at the sight of the still-warm bread and tender meat, which had already been neatly sliced up into bite-sized pieces. Yet, Rephaim was a stubborn person, and he knew how to ignore temptations. He closed his eyes and tried to collect himself before answering her. However, right as he had opened his mouth once again to speak, she stuck a forkful of meat into his mouth.

His eyes shot open, and he tried to sit up straighter on the post.

"Well, go on, chew," she said, taking the fork away but making sure he still had the meat in his mouth. "I know you're hungry, so ya better not try to tell me otherwise." When he didn't immediately start to chew the food, she said, with a mixture of annoyance and amusement, "Eat! Ya just look plain silly sitting there with your cheeks puffed out 'cause your mouth's full, like some sorta chipmunk or something."

He stared at her a moment more, searching her face for something, but when he did not find it, he began to chew.

"See? It didn't kill ya to eat something," she said after he had swallowed the mouthful. Rephaim decided to keep his thoughts to himself, and after a beat of silence, Stevie Rae put another chunk of meat on the fork and offered it out to him. He wanted to shake his head and decline her offer, but when he saw the look in her bright blue eyes, he knew he didn't have a choice. Sighing, he allowed her to feed him the next bite. And another. And another. Pretty soon all of the bread and most of the meat (they decided to save a little for Bhavesh) were gone, as well as the vast majority of the water from the canteen.

Rephaim had taken up searching her face again, looking for what he wanted to find. Stevie Rae finally noticed how intensely he was staring at her after neatly folding what they'd saved for Bhavesh in the napking, so, naturally, she said the first thing that popped into her head: "Why the heck are ya starin' at me like that?"

"Like what?" Rephaim asked innocently.

"You know exactly what," Stevie Rae said stubbornly, crossing her arms.

"I am searching for an answer," Rephaim finally replied.

"An answer to what?"

"A question," was all he said.

"Well, did it ever occur to you that ya could just _ask_ me the question instead of _staring at me_?" she cried indignantly, but then slapped her own hand over her mouth, remembering that it would probably be a good idea to keep her voice down.

Rephaim did not answer.

"Okay, the truth is, I kinda have a question for ya too, so I promise to answer your question if you answer mine," she said after it became apparent that he was not planning on responding to her sometime in the next year. When he still did not answer, she said, "Well? Do we have a deal or not?"

He stared at her questioningly for a moment longer, but finally said simply, "Yes."

"Yay!" Stevie Rae exclaimed (not too loudly) with a small bounce, although she remained seated on the ground. "Okay, you can go ahead and ask your question first."

Rephaim took a deep breath. Well, it wasn't like he could get away with ignoring her at this point. After all, he was now tied to her in more ways than he was tied to the post. He had accepted food and water from her—twice now. She had tended to his wounds, however minor, the previous night. And now he had agreed to a deal with her. Unfortunately, he couldn't simply severe those kind of ties with a knife like he could to the tight ropes that bound him to the post.

Finally, he slowly asked, "Why…are you helping me?"

"Huh?" she said brilliantly. "I'm not sure what you mean by that."

Rephaim thought for a moment on how he should rephrase his question. "Why did you clean my wounds and bring out food and water when your father forbade it?"

A look of confusion crossed her face before she said, "Isn't that kinda the same question ya asked me last night?"

"Stevie Rae," Rephaim interrupted. The name felt strange and foreign on his tongue, but, stranger yet, he found the name almost alluring in a way. He found that he liked to say her name—that he liked the name itself. That he liked—

_Focus!_ he scolded himself. Gods, what was this small, fragile female doing to his head?

Rephaim cleared his throat and tried to clear his thoughts. "Yes, but now I am asking why you continue to help me if it is still against your father's wishes?"

"I, umm, I…I'm not really sure why," Stevie Rae said honestly. "Like I said last night, I just wasn't thrilled with the idea of ya getting' beaten and tied up and just left out here."

Rephaim nodded his head, but he said nothing as he mulled over her answer in his head.

"Okay, my turn for a question," Stevie Rae said after a moment of silence.

"Very well. What is your question?"

"Okay, so I was talking to this guy, Dallas, and he told me some stuff about…well about—"

"My people?" Rephaim offered.

"Yeah. And I was kinda wonderin' how much of it was true," Stevie Rae said.

"I do not believe I have heard a question yet," Rephaim said.

"Oh, yeah. I guess you're kinda right there…" Her voice trailed off, and Rephaim waited to hear her question patiently. It wasn't like he could just get up and walk away from her. One way or another, he was going to have to listen to this strange girl.

However, Stevie Rae had absolutely no idea how to phrase her question, and before she could put enough thought into formulating a proper question, she heard herself blurt, "Do you have a spirit animal?"

Rephaim practically jumped at her sudden outburst; the poor guy had practically drifted off to sleep waiting for her question. "A spirit animal?" he repeated questioningly.

"Yeah. Dallas said that—"

"Who is Dallas?"

"Oh, just some guy I know. He was the soldier who stood on the front porch and got my daddy out of the house while the other two guys were holding your arms behind your back…I'm sorry, that's a really terrible way to phrase that, isn't it?"

Rephaim cracked a small smile. "Terrible or not, it is the truth," he said.

Stevie Rae's mind went completely blank. _Wow_, was all she could think, _he has a really nice smile, even though that's not much of a smile_.

"Yeah, well, Dallas said that you were from a tribe that had special magick powers and stuff. And that those magick powers consisted of being…" she tried to remember the exact words Dallas had used, "of being the embodiment of everything their animal represented."

"And you wish to know if I have a spirit animal."

He didn't phrase it as a question, but she answered him anyway. "Yeah."

"Yes."

"Huh?"

"You asked whether I had a spirit animal, and my answer is yes, I do."

"That's so cool! Wait, so what is your spirit animal?" she asked, unable to keep the excitement and awe out of her voice.

"That's another question."

"What?"

"Our deal was that you would answer one of my questions if I answered one of yours. If you wish for me to answer a second question, then I get to ask another as well."

"Deal!" Stevie Rae said immediately. She couldn't help it; when she was curious about something, she always kept at it until she got enough answers.

"In that case, my 'spirit animal,' as you put it, is a raven."

"That makes so much sense! That's why Bhavesh follows you around, right?"

Rephaim nodded.

"Did that count as a question?"

"Yes."

"Did asking if that counted as a question count as a question?"

"Yes, and so did that question."

"I'm going to stop talking now. You ask your questions."

Rephaim chuckled, a deep and comfortable sound. Stevie Rae couldn't help but giggle as well.

"So, how many questions do I get to ask now?" Rephaim asked.

"Four, but asking how many questions you got to ask counted as a question, so you're down to three."

Rephaim nodded. "Fair enough. My first question, was it also your father who ordered the horse behind me tied up?"

Stevie Rae nodded, causing her blonde curls to bounce. "Yeah. That stallion is kinda in the same position as you. He ain't supposed to be gettin' food or water either."

"Then why do you feed me and even Bhavesh, but not the horse?"

"It's a…it's a long story."

"In case you have not noticed," Rephaim said, moving his arms so she could more clearly see his tightly bound wrists, "I am not in any position to be going anywhere for a time."

Under normal circumstances, realizing Rephaim was capable of sarcasm would have made her smile, but she was too busy trying to figure out a way to explain why she wouldn't go anywhere near the stallion without breaking down into tears.

Finally noticing how uncharacteristically silent she was, Rephaim opened his mouth to tell her she didn't have to answer the question, but before he could get a word out, she blurted, "I'm scared of horses."

Rephaim sensed there was much, much more to the story, so he said, "That does not make much sense to me."

"Why not?" she immediately asked, but quickly added, "And that doesn't count as a question."

"Fine. But, to answer, it makes no sense to me for two reasons."

"The first reason is…"

"You live in a place with a great many horses."

"That isn't any reason not to be afraid of them."

"Well, then why are you afraid of horses?"

"That's your third question, ya know."

"I am aware."

Stevie Rae sighed, knowing he wanted some form of an answer. "Well, they're real big!" she said, not wanting to have to formulate what had happened to her mother into real words.

Rephaim's eyes met hers, and she knew he knew she wasn't telling him the whole truth. But he was kind enough not to press the issue, and simply said, "It is your turn for a question."

Stevie Rae thought for a minute. "Where did Bhavesh go?"

"He left to go get something for me," Rephaim replied.

"What did he go to get?"

"It's my turn for a question. Are you interested in hearing me second reason?"

Stevie Rae nodded, "Uh-huh. What's your second reason?"

"You are scared of horses because they remind you of yourself."

"Excuse me?"

"You are scared of horses because—"

"I heard what you said!" Stevie Rae snapped. "I just don't understand how you think you know me well enough to assume something like that!"

"I am not assuming anything. I am simply stating what I have observed."

"Oh yeah?" she challenged. "And what part of what you've 'observed' makes you think that—"

"You asked me about spirit animals before, and you were right in saying that my people are the embodiment of their guides and protectors. All that I am saying is that you exhibit many similar qualities to that of the horse."

"No, that can't be. Dallas said the horse stood for stamina and power, but I don't think—"

"Well this Dallas boy is very wrong."

"Huh?"

Rephaim wasn't sure if he should really be elaborating on the beliefs of his tribe, but he found the words were tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them. "The boy you spoke to is wrong. The horse does not stand for stamina and power and strength. Yes, he definitely has those attributes, as would anyone with a horse spirit guide, but they are not his primary symbol."

"Oh, so what is his 'primary symbol?'" she asked.

"Freedom."

The way he said it, he made it sound like it should have been obvious—like the answer was staring her in the face all along. But that simple, little word had the entire night falling silent, so that Rephaim's voice could echo and hit her ears over and over again: _Freedom, freedom…free_…

"I still don't understand how you think I'm like a horse," she finally said stubbornly.

"I am not completely sure if you have realized this or not, Stevie Rae, but you are bound to this place like that horse is bound to that post."

"Look, I don't think you—"

He continued as if she hadn't said anything. "And, like the horse, you long to be free from those bonds."

"Rephaim—"

"You do not believe you have stamina or strength? I think you underestimate yourself. Because it has to take a great amount of will-power to survive like you are: still fighting, even though you know you are losing the battle."

"Rephaim, stop," Stevie Rae begged, but he ignored her.

"Like the stallion behind me, you continue to tug at your ropes even when your mind tells you that there is no more hope. You continue to hold on hoping that the ropes binding you to this place will give out before you do."

"Stop. Talking!" She covered her ears in a futile attempt to block out his words, but he calmly kept talking.

"This is where I pity you, Stevie Rae. Because instead of crying out for help, you only isolate yourself, and that is why when you saw that the horse was bound but fighting, not unlike yourself, you covered your fear with more fear. And pretty soon, Stevie Rae, you're only going to bury yourself alive and nobody will be able to save—"

"SHUT UP!" Stevie Rae screamed, and the sound echoed in the silent night around them. Rephaim looked shocked at her outburst, as if it had been sudden. Stevie Rae found she was breathing heavily and on the verge of tears.

"You don't know me, Rephaim. We only just met, and that is a terrible, terrible assumption to make about someone!" she shouted as she got to her feet, unable to keep her voice down.

"Terrible or not, it is the truth," he said, and she could not read the expression in his eyes. This frustrated her to now end, and she nearly choked on a sob. No. She was not going to break down crying in front of him. Not tonight. Not any other night, if she decided to ever come out to him again.

_Gronk! _

Like a passing shadow, Bhavesh swooped down and dropped something on the ground a couple feet away from Rephaim. When Stevie Rae realized what it was, her heart stopped beating.

A knife.

"Are you—are you going to hurt anyone with that?" she asked.

Rephaim shook his head, saying, "No. Are you going to tell anyone?"

This time, Stevie Rae shook her head. "No," she said, her voice nothing but a broken whisper. With that, she turned and ran back inside the cabin, locking the door as if by doing so she could lock out Rephaim's words, which kept circling and circling around and around in her head. She didn't bother to change out of her clothes, even though they were covered in dirt and dust from sitting on the ground. She simply flung herself down on the bed and cried herself to sleep.

Outside, Rephaim looked up at Bhavesh, who sat on the top of the post. "Bhavesh," he said, "what have I done?"

* * *

**A/N**

**Thank you for reading all that! Pretty please leave a review in the little box below this writing; I worked really hard on this chapter and it took me forever, so I would really appreciate some feedback! Thanks!**

**~Smiley**


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